


Khena

by raunchyandpaunchy



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Come Eating, Creampie, Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Fucking, Light Bondage, Lust Potion/Spell, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy
Summary: When Nazir had asked Dira to help the Sanctum with an alchemical experiment that, in his words, “would appeal to two of her main interests”, she had jumped at the chance. Something Ingun had concocted; something that, if she agreed to be a willing test subject, she could have the recipe to.In truth, Dira would have done it for free, but neither of them needed to know that.
Relationships: Nazir (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47
Collections: Sanctum of the Vespertine





	Khena

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citruspuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citruspuppy/gifts).



> Happy belated birthday, Citrus! Thank you so much for letting me borrow Dira, and for letting me do uh... this with her lmao. I hope you enjoy what was me essentially slamming Dira's kink buttons like someone tryin to get a jackpot on the slots. :D
> 
> For everyone else, please enjoy my new fave Dunmer lass get dicked down the way she deserves. <3
> 
> (A massive thankyou to Mim for beta reading this for me!)

The mixture is thick and earthy, some herb Diranali can’t identify lingering on her tongue as she swallows. Warmth surges through her body, quickly fading as Nazir pulls the vial back and wipes the residual liquid from her lips.

“And now,” he says, moving to sit in the chair opposite Dira, “we wait.”

When Nazir had asked Dira to help the Sanctum with an alchemical experiment that, in his words, “would appeal to two of her main interests”, she’d jumped at the chance. Something Ingun had concocted; something that, if she agreed to be a willing test subject, she could have the recipe to.

In truth, Dira would have done it for free, but neither of them needed to know that. The additional alchemical knowledge certainly wouldn’t hurt, and, depending on the success, the potion could be tinkered with to her own satisfaction.

So far, though, it doesn’t seem to be doing much. The initial rush of whatever its main ingredient is had been fairly intense, but other than that, Dira feels relatively normal. Or, as normal as she can feel, naked and collared and kneeling on the bed, Nazir watching her with subdued interest from his chair.

They hadn’t told her much of what to expect, other than “increased arousal”, which told her very little. Dira lived in what was almost a perpetually aroused state, so what they expected to achieve with this potion was—

Oh.

_ Oh. _

It hits her like a gout of fire, stifling and furious, surging through her body and burning her from the inside out. Heat is something she’s used to, something that’s as much a part of her as the blood flowing through her veins, but now they feel one and the same; lava pulsing in her throat and between her legs, aching to spill over. Refusing to be ignored, and it’s only now that Dira realises why Nazir had insisted on tying her arms behind her back.

She licks her lips and bites back a moan, trying to hide just how affected by this she really is. Which is silly, probably; the sooner she succumbs to the potion’s effects, the sooner something might get done to assuage said effects, but she’s not ready to give Nazir the upper hand just yet. She’s been more desperate than this and still kept her head. She can hold onto her composure a little longer.

Except, maybe she can’t. Every time she moves, even a little, she throbs; cunt already slick. Her nipples are so hard they could cut glass, and the dull pain that brings only makes her more aroused. Each tiny sensation—a soft breeze, the blankets against her feet, her own hair against her shoulders—feels like a caress, gorgeous and torturous at the same time, and all she wants is to be filled, soft lips and sharp teeth pressing against her skin as she’s taken—

“I’m assuming the potion has taken effect, then?”

Dira opens her eyes, and sees Nazir smirking back at her, brow raised. She hadn’t even realised she’d had them closed, but now that she’s back in the here and now, she notices all the things she’s been trying to ignore—the rise and fall of her chest, her quickening breaths, back arching and legs spreading open wider.

At this point, the question is rhetorical, but Dira knows he still expects an answer.

“Yes—” The end of the word comes out in a hiss as another sharp pulse of pleasure spikes through her. “Yes, Sir.”

Nazir smiles, beetle-black eyes glinting. “Good.” Lifts his leg, and for one blessed moment Dira thinks he’s going to come over and give her what she wants, but then he settles back down, shifting into a more comfortable position. “This should be fun.”

_ There’s no way he’s going to just sit there and watch _ , she thinks, but before the thought’s even finished forming she knows full well that’s exactly what he’s going to do. Just sit there, watching her squirm and writhe until she breaks, and the thought of that has her even more worked up, pulse throbbing between her legs.

Dira refuses to speak first. He can watch all he likes, but she’s not going to cave in that easily, no matter how much her body longs for contact and her cunt aches to be filled. She strains against the ropes tying her arms together, letting loose a noise that’s half growl, half moan. Tries to find a position to kneel in that doesn’t make her feel so starved, but moving only makes it worse, and her hips grind down involuntarily, seeking any kind of friction or relief.

“How does it feel, my pet?”

Dira glares at Nazir, trying and failing to school her demeanour into something more composed. “Feels—” A shiver rolls through her body, breath catching in her throat. “ _ Fuck, _ it’s so much—”

“Too much?” Nazir stands up, slowly pacing towards her. Reaches out and brushes her cheek with the pad of his thumb, and Dira leans eagerly into the touch, savouring the small morsel of contact and affection. He smiles at her indulgently, running his thumb over her lips, expression shifting into something cruel. “Does it ache, poor thing?”

His words drip with mockery, and Dira shudders, sighing her response against his thumb. “Yes, Sir.”

Nazir’s finger cups Dira’s chin, tilting her head upward. “Do you want me to take care of you, darling?”

There’s nothing soft or sincere in Nazir’s questioning, but Dira gazes up at him nonetheless, nodding earnestly. Pleads with every inch of herself that can, and when that doesn’t work, forms those pleas into words. “Please, Sir, I—” Her breath catches again. “Can’t take this, I need—”

“Oh, I don’t think you know what it is to need, yet,” Nazir replies, low in her ear. “Although I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

A frustrated whine tears its way from Dira’s throat. “Please, you can’t leave me like this, I—”

Nazir’s hand grips Dira’s jaw, vicelike. “I think you’ll find I can do whatever I want, my pet.” His voice drops into a growl, rough and predatory, stoking the heat low in Dira’s belly. “Could leave you here writhing and begging for release until tears spill down your pretty little face and your voice gives out,” he says, eyes roving hungrily over her, “or, I could make you watch as I get myself off, and maybe if I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you make yourself useful and clean up my mess.”

Whatever Dira was planning to say comes out as a ragged moan, her body slumping against Nazir’s. Her arousal is all-consuming now, filling every inch of her until there’s no room for anything else, and when Nazir’s thigh presses between her legs she grinds against it, sighing as the gnawing need for friction and pressure is momentarily sated.

“Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat,” Nazir says, amused, and it should be embarrassing, but all Dira can care about now is sating her hunger, chasing her pleasure like a wolf chases a rabbit. “Are you really that desperate?”   
  


Dira ruts against Nazir’s leg, faster and harder. “Y-yes, Sir.” She pants, fists balled behind her back, and Azura, it’s so close she can almost taste it—

Nazir’s thumb presses between her lips, rolling against her tongue in the same rhythm that her hips roll against his thigh, and her orgasm crashes over her, merciless and ceaseless. Dira’s cunt pulses, pleasure spilling from her, hot and slick and steady.

The warm, firm press of Nazir’s thigh leaves her, and she moans out, bereft. Aftershocks wrack her, but in their wake, it’s as if she’s never come; still starving, aching to be sated. When Nazir’s fingers swipe across her cunt, circling her clit, it’s agony and ecstasy combined—building her up all over again, as her whole body throbs, oversensitive.

“Absolutely filthy,” Nazir chuckles darkly, fingers working slow and slick over her, barely inching in. “Ready to be filled up and used any time I like.” He pulls out his fingers, pushing them into Dira’s mouth, her own arousal thick and heady on her tongue. “Can you taste just how desperate you are?”

Dira nods, lost, sucking fervently on Nazir’s fingers. They withdraw, and then they’re back between her legs, rubbing with just enough force to have her bucking against them, moaning, begging—

“You’d do anything for my cock inside you, wouldn’t you,” Nazir growls in her ear, and fuck, it’s too much, cunt convulsing as her whole body tenses and jerks, undone by it all—

—And then, just as quickly as it came, the ache sets back in as his hand leaves her.

“Fuck, fuck, no, Sir,  _ please _ —”

His thumb runs across her earlobe, breath tickling her skin as he shushes her. There’s the clink of a belt buckle, and Dira opens her eyes to see Nazir pulling himself out of his breeches, an obscenely large wet spot on the left thigh. He grips his cock, pulling back the foreskin, a bead of precum glistening on its head. Dira’s mouth waters. It’s been so long, too long, and she bends down to suck on it, only to find it just out of her reach.

She pushes forward further, as much as her body will allow; she’s in danger of toppling over without her hands to help her keep balanced, but she’s nothing if not persistent. Thighs burning with effort, she shuffles closer, stretching forward, urging Nazir to meet her in the middle. Instead, he lets out a low, amused sound, seemingly content to watch her struggle.

“Oh,  _ pet, _ ” Nazir says, voice equal parts adoring and mocking. “So hungry, so eager.” Licks his lips. “So fun to torture.”

Another jolt of pleasure surges through Dira, and she lets out a wounded noise, fists clenching as she strains against the ropes. Being denied is frustrating enough, but  _ this _ … this is another thing entirely.

“Sir, don’t tease,” Dira whines, giving Nazir her most doleful look. “Please.” Bats her lashes, pouts slightly, hopes that she can appeal to Nazir’s softer side. A naive sort of hopefulness, given the man’s profession, but at this point she’ll try anything.

Nazir moves closer, threading his fingers through her hair, toying with the strands that have fallen loose from her bun.

“Darling girl.” His fist grips tighter, the fingers of his other hand working their way up her side, finding their way to her nipple. “Sweet, darling Diranali.” Gives her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you really think me that easy?”

Pain shoots through Dira, sudden and sharp; the pull of hair, the twist of flesh. She cries out.

“Did you think,” Nazir growls in her ear, “you could just blink those pretty eyes at me and I’d give you whatever you wanted?” He tuts. “Foolish. Surely you know me better than that.”

“I—I’m sorry, Sir, I—” Azura, this shouldn’t be making her wetter. “I just wanted you so badly, I needed—”

Dira isn’t given time to finish her sentence. Nazir wraps one arm around her waist, the other cupping around between her legs to grab her arse, lifting her like it isn’t even a challenge. Like she’s a ragdoll, and oh, isn’t that a thought—that she can just be picked up and placed like a piece of furniture, simple as that, shiny and pretty and fit for purpose? 

Nazir lowers her, and Dira settles into place, knees pressing against the cold, hard stone underneath. “Perhaps this is an easier position for you, hmm?” Puts his foot between Dira’s legs, kicking them further apart. “Although I don’t plan on making things easy for you.”

Dira doesn’t care how difficult Nazir intends to make things. She’s never backed down from a challenge, and has no intention of doing so now; not with Nazir’s cock jutting out, hard as iron, mere inches away from her. 

This time it’s easier to close the gap, and when her mouth reaches the tip she latches onto it desperately, salt and sweat lingering on her tongue. Nazir’s hand winds in her hair, tugging gently, and Azura, yes, this is the loveliest gift she could have been given; the thick weight of Nazir’s cock against her tongue, grounding her, lulled into a meditative sort of daze as she gets into a steady rhythm. A nail scrapes gently across the tip of her ear. She moans, feeling Nazir harden, her lips stretching around the thickness of his cock.

“Good,” he purrs, stroking her ear now. “Such a useful little hole…”

It’s been surprisingly gentle so far, all things considered. Dira had expected Nazir to be as rough as his words and demeanour suggested, but when he pushes into her mouth, cockhead breaching the back of her throat, he doesn’t give her any more than she can handle—just strokes her hair, her face, her ears, making soft hums of approval the entire time. There’s a reverence present in his touch that’s achingly tender, and it has Dira shuddering, little huffs escaping through her nose as she pushes herself closer to him, throat opening to accept every inch. The thatch of curls at the base of Nazir’s cock brushes her nose as she bottoms out, and it makes another shiver run through her, down her spine and straight to her cunt.

A low growl escapes Nazir, and he grips Dira’s hair firmly, holding her in place. “That’s it, pet.” Looks down at her, a sinister smile on his face, his free hand toying with her nipple. “Show me how much you can take.” Toys some more, rolling it in his fingers before giving it a sharp, sudden twist, and what little breath Dira had is now gone, choked out by the pain in her breast and the cock in her throat.

It’s almost too much to take, heart thrumming rapidly, and for a moment she considers using her out—three hums and she’d be let go, the tight grip and pressure loosening until she’s free again. But freedom isn’t what she wants, and after a moment her chest stills, the initial wash of panic subsiding and settling into waves of something that isn’t exactly calm, but is soothing all the same.

“Look at you, being so good for me now,” Nazir croons, pulling himself out of Dira’s mouth, allowing her to catch her breath. Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. “Taking everything I’m giving you, like you were made for it.”

Warmth spreads through her at the praise, and for a moment she forgets the hunger gnawing between her legs. She just floats, gazing up at Nazir, his firm grasp anchoring her, and then he pushes in again and fuck, she’s breathless, she’s on  _ fire. _

Nazir fucks her throat ruthlessly, pushing her in exactly the way she wants to be pushed, always just the right side of too much. Drool runs down her chin, dripping onto her breasts; the tears brimming in her eyes spill over as she gags on Nazir’s cock, and before long they’re streaming down her face, hot and wet. He looks down at her, grinning wide and dangerous, cock throbbing against Dira’s tongue.

Dira throbs too. Feels every thrust like he’s fucking her cunt, the pace and rhythm relentless, and just like that she’s on the precipice of coming undone all over again. Shaking with it, thighs aching to squeeze together, everything reduced to the sensate: the obscene, sloppy sounds of Nazir fucking her spit-slick mouth, the pad of his thumb smearing her tears, a low, deep voice that tells her how pretty she looks when she’s wrecked—

Her orgasm comes without warning, cunt convulsing around nothing, neglected clit throbbing and sending shocks of sensation through her with every move. Dira moans around Nazir’s cock, voice ragged, throat aching, sucking fervently like she doesn’t know how to stop, and when he tries to withdraw she sucks harder, pushing forward and latching onto him like she’ll perish if he pulls out. 

“Diranali,” Nazir says, the brusqueness in his voice softened by his own want. “Let me go.”

The discontented little noise Dira makes is mostly muffled by Nazir’s cock, which she keeps sucking happily. By the way he throbs against her tongue, she doubts he’s displeased.

Well, until he grips her jaw, vicelike. “Let me  _ go. _ ” Any softness in his voice is gone, and his thumb hooks into Dira’s mouth, prising it open. “Now.”

Dira pouts, but relents, letting Nazir’s cock slip free.

“As much as I’d love to let you swallow every drop of me down,” he says, running his thumb over her lip, “I don’t intend on sharing you this evening.” He cards though her hair, gently scratching her scalp. “And while there’s a certain allure in leaving you to writhe, tortured by your own arousal, it’d be a waste to get you in this state without getting to enjoy you too.” He hooks his hand under Dira’s armpits, helping her to her feet. “Now, climb back onto the bed and get into position.”

Dira kneels on the bed, legs spread as wide as she can manage, then lets her body loll against the sheets. It’s vulnerable and uncomfortable in a way it wouldn’t be if she had her arms to prop her up; back arching, obscenely displayed.

It feels like an age before Nazir approaches, but when he does Dira can feel the unmistakable heat of bare skin mere inches away from her own. Radiating from Nazir like he’s heat incarnate, and when he grabs her hip his touch is a brand against her flesh.

“If only you could see yourself now, pet.” His other hand grips her arse cheek, pulling her further open. “Dripping wet, shaking with how much you need it.” Runs his thumbs along the folds of Dira’s cunt, soft enough to make her moan into the blankets underneath. “Presenting yourself to me like an animal in heat, begging to be bred.”

Dira opens her mouth to do just that, but then Nazir’s cock pushes inside her and all she can do is exhale, any words coming out as one ragged, incoherent noise. It’s ridiculously good, it has no  _ right  _ feeling this good, and she hooks her calves around Nazir’s legs, urging him to go deeper, fuck faster, give her  _ more _ . 

“You thought I’d make it easy for you now, Diranali?” She can hear the grin in Nazir’s voice, sinister and satisfied; one hand gripping the bindings around her wrists as the other grasps her hip, slowly pushing into her until he’s buried to the hilt. “We’re only just getting started.”

Slides back out, his pace glacial, until only the head of his cock is still inside her. Keeps it there, motionless, Dira’s cunt throbbing around it, and just as she thinks she might be able to handle that, Nazir pulls her binds and pistons into her with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs.

It’s ruthless, and it’s brutal, and it’s enough to have her clenching around Nazir already, saliva pooling on the sheets as she whimpers.

“I’m glad I didn’t leave you to suffer,” Nazir says, in a way that would be fond if it was anyone else saying it. “You really do make an exquisite little glove for my cock.” Runs his thumb across her arse, groping, nails biting into the flesh. “Don’t you think?”

Even if Dira could have formed words, they’d have been rendered useless by Nazir’s next thrust. All that leaves her is a stuttered, punched-out noise that resembles a yes, which seems to be good enough for Nazir. He continues his onslaught—slow,  _ so _ slow, then deep and hard and merciless, never giving Dira a moment to adjust. It’s agonising, and it’s gorgeous, and all Dira can do is take it, dazed and drifting and pliant beneath him. Ready to be ground down and distilled into whatever he’ll let her be, taking her apart with every thrust. The fast-slow vivid pulse between her legs, the gorgeous ache of it; the slap of flesh against flesh, pestle grinding against mortar. Fragments of moans and saliva pooling on the blankets, bubbling up and dripping down into something greater than the sum of its parts.

“Diranali,” Nazir says, his hand curling around to skim her stomach. “Are you ready?”

She is and she isn’t and she’s desperate and she’s terrified, but she manages to squeak out her agreement, arching into Nazir before he can question her again.

Nazir slides forward, his chest against Dira’s back, fingers seeking out her aching clit and toying, building, and oh, it’s—

She’s—

It’s been years since Red Mountain erupted. Dira’s never witnessed it, but she’s heard tales; ground quaking as it roused, its contents razing the earth underneath. Cataclysmic and devastating.

_ This is how the mountain must have felt, _ she thinks absently as she comes, great violent waves of it flowing through her. Body shuddering open; destruction and chaos and release pouring from every crack. She shakes, still in the throes of orgasm as the aftershocks spike through her.

It doesn’t stop.

Nazir pistons into her, fingers rubbing steady circles over her clit, other hand grasping her breast. Keeping her upright. Keeping her trapped. It’s too much, and she’s ready to tell Nazir to stop when he coaxes out another orgasm, fingers slick as they glide across her cunt, somehow soothing and overwhelming all at once. Draws out another, then another, until she stops spilling over his fingers and his cock and her voice gives out. Fucks her through it all, letting her shiver against him, kissing along her back and nibbling her neck and telling her how good she is, how spectacular she feels clenching around him,  _ yes, pet, just like that. _

  
  
  


When he comes he thrusts into her, impossibly deep, voice catching as his pleasure overtakes him. Dira doesn’t know what she enjoys more; the slick, vivid spill of his cum inside her or the way he growls when he does, still thrusting into her, stuttered but determined.

Dira breathes, twitching and boneless against the bed, head swimming as Nazir pulls out. Almost catches her breath, then a hot, firm tongue swipes along her cunt, a pleased moan coming from Nazir as he eats himself out of her. He sucks, the sound obscene, and Dira uses what little energy she has to lean into the contact.

Nazir grasps her thighs, giving a few more eager laps, then flips her over and eases her legs apart.

The last thing Dira remembers before she drifts off is two beetle-black eyes looking up at her, starved and reverent, eyelashes fanning out as he presses his mouth against her cunt.

***

Dira isn’t sure how long she’s out, but when she wakes up her arms are free again, only the imprint of rope still looping around her wrists. She can feel the ache in her muscles and between her legs, but it’s a pleasant sort of pain, only earned by pushing your body to the limit. The scent of tea lingers—freshly brewed, judging by the plumes of steam from the nearby tea tray. 

She smiles. “Good timing,” she says hoarsely, nodding to the teapot.

Nazir kisses her temple, holding her close. “Ingun said you should be rousing soon. Recommends you drink plenty of that.” Runs her hand along her side, soothing. “Says to pour it over the honeycomb before drinking, to help with your throat.”

Dira grimaces. She’s never been one to sweeten her tea, finding honey to be cloying and overpowering, but she concedes it will soothe her throat well enough. Nazir pours her a cup, and she takes a long, slow sip, savouring the fragrant, earthy flavours.

Nazir looks over his own cup, eyes glinting with amusement. “You know, usually my partners stay awake when I eat them out.”

Dira grins back. “Usually your partners aren’t under the effects of an arousal potion, and haven’t just been fucked into Oblivion.”

“Well.” Nazir blows his tea before taking a sip, smiling around the rim of the cup. “You’re half right, at least.”

Dira laughs, nestling back into the crook of Nazir’s arm. “Cocky s’wit.”

They’ve only done this a few times—enough that Dira can count them on one hand—but she’s surprised to find how easy it feels. Considering Nazir’s profession, he’s surprisingly caring; indulging her need to be tactile and letting her cling onto him like a baby netch, feeding her sips of tea and morsels of sweetroll, carrying her to the bathhouse and lowering her into water so hot it turns her skin plum and her body liquid. It’s as soft and gentle as his fucking is hard and rough, and at first it’s a jarring contrast, until Dira notices how each side bleeds over into the other—the sly, sarcastic wit that lingers as he strokes her hair, the fond smile when he buckles her collar. The way he tucks her into bed, dressed in one of his old tunics, the scent of his beard oil and his skin still clinging to the fabric. How he climbs in beside her, wrestling his share of the blanket from her grasp.

“Sithis,” he grouses. “I’ve slept with werewolves that have taken up less space.”

Dira nudges Nazir’s foot with her own. “Oh, hush. You like my company, really.”

Nazir grunts in response, displeased, but Dira doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is Dunmeris for heat.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate kudos, comments and overall incoherent keysmashing, so if you enjoyed please feel free to leave any of those. <3


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